


Drabbles and Vague plot ideas

by Dreamer_Lost



Category: Original Work
Genre: Death, Death as an entity, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Reason not to mess with fae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26524789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_Lost/pseuds/Dreamer_Lost
Summary: This is really me just going through my docs and throwing them at a wall to see what sticks. If nothing else maybe someone will read and get inspired or leave a comment that has me writing instead of sleeping.
Relationships: human/fae
Kudos: 1





	1. Death Is Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many way to portray the personification of Death.  
> I think Death is tired.

Death was nothing special in the eyes of mortals. Just a little nerdy looking thing in clunky red high tops, black pants of some kind and a baggy black hoodie. With a face that kept changing. Eyes that never stayed one color and that are always void of emotion, lacking life, with bags under those soulless eyes. For Death was always busy and can never rest. 

In the beginning, it had all been so simple. Just collecting souls of dead stars for later use. 

There is a reason some just shine brighter than others. 

The Earth formed, just a ball of dirt, water and gases, brimming with potential. Then the plants burst from water that cover the surface and the oceans roiled with life. Creatures crawled from the waters and breathed air. It was marvelous to witness. 

Sadly, nothing lives forever. 

Plants were Deaths favorite honestly. They were better than creatures in a way. Always sprouting anew and just existing. The sturdier plants did not wilt and die, merely went to sleep for a season or two. 

Creatures on the other hand would grow, learn, mate and die. Making it so Death was no longer simply an observer. Death collected the fledgling souls and introduced them back into the cycle, returning them to the planet in a new body. The cycle beginning again. Death became well acquainted with many simple little souls. 

Death watched as humans evolved. Learned to communicate, create fire and stone tools. Built homes from various things and built communities. Hunted the creatures and destroyed plants with only their own needs in mind. Then they started to harm and kill one another for reasons besides self-defense. Some humans were better than others in how they treated those of their own species. Some were worse. Death soon lost count of the souls they reaped from humans, they died so quickly it seemed at times. The small ones were always so scared, shaking, crying and begging for Ma, Mum, Momma, Mummy, Maman, Mother, Oka-san, Oma, there were a surprising number of ways that humans had to name their bearer. Older ones varied in reaction to Death, from rage to acceptance from demands of vengeance to a pitiful kind of hope for a restful afterlife. 

Death liked the ones that were calm best. They didn’t ask asinine questions, make demands or beg. Sometimes they were silent, others they talked about their lives no matter how simple that life had been. Some were curious and asked interesting questions and actually listened, asking more and more questions until they reached the cycle. Death always hoped those souls were allowed the best lives. 

Death watched, reaped and punished. 

Several millennia into watching this planet and Death was tired. Humans had reproduced and spread like a plague, destroying many of the oldest trees that Death had seen grow from mere sprouts and animals that Death had put into the cycle over and over and knew like the back of their hand. They wondered why their sibling Life had allowed their creation to grow out of hand as if it was some stubborn weed. Humans were killing everything around them and then denied it was their fault. That the planet was naturally getting hotter, naturally getting more chaotic weather patterns, naturally making more and more life-threatening bacteria and germs. Called the ones trying to repair the damage tree-huggers, exaggerators, demeaned them in any way they could. 

Socially, they made it hard for each other to live healthy, making food, health care, and medicines expensive and exploiting those were desperate. 

Death missed the days of simpler creatures.


	2. Neighborly Fae

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is super short because I only had the idea Neighbor Fae after chatting with a friend who use to mess with a rock fairy ring and somehow never got snatched.

She was always the girl that was quiet and didn’t smile a lot. People told her she looked like she wanted to murder someone with that look on her face. That look they always spoke of is honestly just her face. She’s always been lonely, and their comments don’t help. She doesn’t have a reason to smile at these people, but she does smile. Just not for them, her smiles are for her beloved garden and the creatures that live around her home. She sings, smiles and talk to her garden and the crows and things that pass by. 

On the edge of her property is a fairy ring. Growing up with a grandmother that told her all about the small folk she knows not to step foot in it, never talks to the fae that live within (not that she has seen them), and tried to avoid it when she could. Though, she can’t help leaving shiny things like rocks, buttons, bits of glass, in odd numbers of course, or cream or milk just between the mushrooms of the ring. She feels it is only polite, the fae is her closest neighbor and sometimes she plays music or Youtube a bit loud so she can hear it throughout her little home. 

One day, while doing some yard work on the edge of her property, a man approaches her. He looks human enough that if no one looked too closely would see anything off about him, yet she had nothing to do but watch him come closer towards her. To notice how his skin wasn’t just pale but seemed to shimmer, how his hair is uncommonly black like the void and seems to suck in light, how his eyes were just a bit too big and too dark, how when his opened his mouth to greet her his teeth were pointed like a predator. 

“Hello, I’m called Arawn and I just moved in.” He gave her a closed lip smile and waved in the direction she knew that the fairy ring was located. 

“Like the Welsh god.” She comments, a small grin stretching her lips. “You can call me Rosemerta then.” 

The fae smiled wider to tried to hide the narrowing of its eyes. The woman smiles up at him knowing she frustrated the fae standing before her by knowing the rules. Rule number one: Never give a fae your name, names have power and fae can do many things with one once it is given to them. 

“Would you like some tea? It’s lovely outside and I have a nice little table over there where we can chat, enjoy the nice day.” Rosemerta suggests, being polite never hurt anyone and it is always best not to angry creatures that aren’t human. 

“That sounds lovely.” Arawn agrees. 

Rosemerta leads him to the little enamel painted iron table with wooden chairs that sit below a relatively young maple tree before disappearing inside for the time it takes to boil water and set up a tray to take back outside. She sets the tray on the table before sitting herself and pouring the tea for her unusual guest.


End file.
